<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>first date with a writer's block by oisforoblivion</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076755">first date with a writer's block</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisforoblivion/pseuds/oisforoblivion'>oisforoblivion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>homemade treats and other shenanigans [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Date, M/M, Sassy Neil Josten, Writer Andrew Minyard, honestly what more can i say, more like andrew falling hard for our orange boy, soft?????, spoiler: neil has secrets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:20:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisforoblivion/pseuds/oisforoblivion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew might just scream if he thinks more about that boy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, andreil - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>homemade treats and other shenanigans [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>first date with a writer's block</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“A young mysterious man approaches the experienced detective…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“There’s a case of serial killings by seemingly innocent snacks and it all piles around this Casanova…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Red. Color of the devil. The boy approached him with fire in his eyes…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“With a knock on the door the writer’s life changed forever-“</em>
</p>
<p><em>“He was </em>handsome-<em>“</em></p>
<p>Andrew threw his pen flying away to the couch, and cupped his face in his hands. It was the millionth story pitch he crossed over that day, all suspiciously revolving around one face and one face only, driving him nothing less crazy than whatever enough to make him want to punch holes in the walls.</p>
<p>It was a problem.</p>
<p>He had a problem.</p>
<p>He was writing <em>crime novels</em> god damn it, what the actual fuck was “<em>they woke up delightfully tangled on the couch</em>”?</p>
<p>He needed a quick wash.</p>
<p>By the time he made out of the shower, his watched ticked with the coming of new hour. It was seven already, leaving Andrew half an hour until it his doorbell rang again (<strike>the first time since two days ago</strike>) and he wasn’t a particularly fast preparer.</p>
<p>He just had enough time to choose a couple of outfits from the closet and then force himself to pick a single set out of them, then chewed on his pen for a little more time, then changed his shirt into something… more…, then put on a thin line on his eye… maybe styled his hair a bit… when the expected event occurred.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Neil said, his smile flashing a bright grin in the night. <em><strike>GOD DAMN IT!</strike></em> “I had to go through a few costume changes. So, what do you think? Am I underdressed?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Underdressed?</em>
</p>
<p>Andrew cleared his throat.  “You look adequate.”</p>
<p>It was the first time he saw Neil in something other than sweatpants or grossly unflattering jeans that it was unfair that he decided to go all for it that night. He wore high-waist jeans just shy of being actual leggings, baby blue crop-top, shit ton of leather bracelets, and-</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you had piercings.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah,” he said pulling on the thin chain extending from his slightly pointy ear tip to his earlobe, where the chain’s other end was pierced through, leaving quite a bit to dangle further down his ear. “I haven’t been wearing piercings in a long time. I have a few more, but I guess you’ll have to earn a few more favors to see them,” he winked.</p>
<p>Andrew wanted to kill him. He had enough knowledge on how to hide a body.</p>
<p>It was Andrew who they’ve (he has) decided to drive them there, and he raised his brow when Neil didn’t show the expected reaction when his black Maserati lit up with a click on the car keys.</p>
<p>“You don’t look surprised,” he said, sliding to the driver’s seat. “Sports cars must be a common occurrence.”</p>
<p>“So you wanted compliments?” he replied, also with a lifted brow. “You don’t need a car for that at all.”</p>
<p>
  <em>You smooth little-</em>
</p>
<p>“But yes,” he continued. “I can say I’ve seen a fair share of sports cars if that’s what you mean.”</p>
<p>“Would you like to elaborate?”</p>
<p>Neil smirked and put on his seatbelt. “I guess I’d rather have a glass on my hand first.”</p>
<p>Andrew pulled over next to a high profile bar, and handed his keys to the valet who addressed him by his name. They entered the bar, which frankly looked more like a club, and sat on the place that was reserved for them. At that point, Neil <em>did</em> look kind of impressed.</p>
<p>“Is this by the courtesy of your Writer Points or…”</p>
<p>“I know the couple who owns the place.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” Neil said. “Must be close.”</p>
<p>“Same college,” he replied. “Different career paths. Although I sometimes do wish that I’ve taken up their offer in running the bar.”</p>
<p>“Problems in the fictional era?”</p>
<p>Andrew tried not to think about his failure that morning. “Nothing besides the normal.”</p>
<p>“Dan is a sports editor,” he said. “She also writes, but I can simply imagine being a best-selling crime novelist to be in a complete other league than that.”</p>
<p>“It has its perks,” he admitted with a shrug, “and drawbacks. But what about you? My fame seems to have exceeded the safe boundaries of my house, yet I know nothing about you.” He leaned forward. “Tell me about this running addict young man with a ‘fair share of sports cars seen’.”</p>
<p>“He likes maths,” he said. He brought his already ordered drink to his lips. Andrew could swear his expression changed but he couldn’t be sure with these lights. “He is not a really interesting fella.”</p>
<p>Andrew tsked with disapproval. “That was the wrong answer. Only the interesting people say they aren’t.”</p>
<p>“Smart.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been accused so before.”</p>
<p>“Let’s leave the background information to our second date, shall we?” He placed the beer glass on the table with a full thud. “I think we can find something that serves both our interests.”</p>
<p>He had to be a fucking moron to miss the obvious change in subject, but he let it slide this time. He couldn’t really complain with an offer like that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>fyi, the owners of the bar is renee and allison ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>